Concoctions
by SophiaOfSlytherin
Summary: Story of Mandy O'Malley. Being a non-Pureblood somehow sorted into Slytherin will cause issues, but could it be all for the best? When life seems to be falling around her, Mandy finds a way to express herself: Potions. Set in SS/PS
1. Sort Me Simply

Brushing a lock of her back-length black hair out from in front of her eyes, Mandy turned to her mother, who smiled and said, "This is it." A pause slid into the air before the two hugged, both slightly teary-eyed. Today, Mandy went away for the first time, and it wasn't just a simple sleep over elsewhere. No, the eleven year old was off to Hogwarts. Joanna O'Malley was finding it extremely hard to believe that her daughter was growing up so quickly. It seemed like only yesterday to her that her baby girl had been placed into her arms. Alone in the hospital yet among people, it was just Joanna and Mandy, and that was how it had been ever since.

Suitcases in hand, Mandy waved goodbye and smiled weakly one last time. "Goodbye, Mum," she said for the umpteenth time, her blue eyes sparkling at her mother, and her mother's matching eyes sparkling back moistly. Another quick hug, and then Mandy ran through Platform nine and three-quarters. Now she was in front of the Hogwarts Express, her bags taken to wherever they needed to be taken. Mutely, the quiet child moved herself onto the train, into a compartment that was bare and free of other students at the time. It wasn't so much that Mandy was anti-social, just a bit shy. She didn't want any unneeded conversations, for fear they would go wrong. Her inferiority complex disenabled her from striking conversation like many other children did, so instead she hid herself behind long dark hair, belittling her striking eyes.

Listening to the music that was the train and its turning wheels, the breeze through her cracked window, and the ringing of her ears, Mandy was soon soothed into sleeping. Acute hearing, however, woke her when she heard the trolley rolling towards her compartment. One ivory hand after the other pulling herself up, Mandy greeted the trolley lady warmly. When asked, "Anything off the trolley?" Mandy shook her head. "No, thank you, ma'am," she replied politely, and the lady was on her way. Settling herself back into her compartment, she realized it wasn't unoccupied anymore; there were boys in here, boys she hadn't noticed when she had first woken up.

Two of the boys were a bit round, one taller than the other, but both with brownish hair. The last boy -he looked like the leader- had big eyes, a pointed chin, and very light blonde hair. When she re-entered, all three heads snapped up at her. None of them looked very friendly. "Well, she's back!" the blonde one laughed, an air of mockery about his words. "Think she's noticed us yet, boys?"

A light blush of embarrassment colored Mandy's cheeks. She felt like such an idiot! "Um, I'm sorry," she said briefly. "I mean-…" Truthfully, she didn't _know _what she meant. There weren't really words she could think of to use in this situation. Head down, she said sadly, "I'll just leave…" Walking away to find another empty compartment, Mandy heard cruel, arrogant laughter follow her out.

Unable to find an empty one, Mandy gave up and knocked lightly on a compartment with two boys inside. One had red hair and a pet rat. The other had black, messy hair and an interesting scar on his forehead. "Mind if I sit here?" she said unsurely. "The ride won't be much longer now, and I just need a seat…"

It was the black-haired boy who answered her. "Sure," he said. Mandy found him to be much more friendly than that blonde kid had been. "We don't mind at all." Smiling weakly in a feat of gratitude, Mandy seated herself next to the red-haired boy. "I'm Harry, by the way. Harry Potter," the first boy added, recapturing her attention.

"And I'm Ron Weasley," said the redhead, stealing it back. She tucked a stray strand of black hair behind her left ear before fixating on the boy who introduced himself as Ron. Never before had she seen so many freckles on one small face. Mandy would have sworn his face was just _made _of them!

Smiling pink lips lighting up her pale face in ways only accented by the bright blueness of her eyes, Mandy made her own introduction. "My name's Amanda O'Malley," she said. "I like to be called Mandy." A modest blush tinted her ivory skin lightly, and for the first time Mandy could remember, she had people who seemed to like her. Maybe they could even become her -dare she think it?- friends. That was a new experience for Mandy. So far, she liked the feeling, the prospective hope. Maybe, just maybe, her life would feel human, normal.

_~!…!~_

Sorting was about to occur. Mandy had all the symptoms of nervousness: the butterflies, the sweaty palms, all of it. A few feet from her, a girl with curly blonde hair, eyes with brown in the center and green around the edges, and skin almost as pale as Mandy's. She seemed to be the only one who _wasn't _nervous, yet was featuring a smile. The girl leaned over to Mandy and said cheerily, "Ready for this?" But before Mandy could reply, the ceremony began.

At first, Mandy found herself staring off, not really paying attention. The first name she heard was some girl called Hermione Granger, who was sent to Gryffindor not long after seeing the sorting hat. Another spell of spacing out took her to Draco Malfoy, who was that blonde boy from the train. Upon hearing a last name like Malfoy and realizing it was alphabetical by last name, Mandy determined that just maybe she should pay attention. The hat barely touched his head before it sorted him to Slytherin. Next called was Samantha Mercury. That excitable blonde bounced her way up to the front and sat down, eagerly having the hat placed upon her head. "The very example of Gryffindor!" exclaimed the hat.

Once "O'Malley, Amanda" was called, Mandy carefully moved herself up to the front, sitting in that spot and having the hat lowered to her head. "Hmm… I'd like to take a risk here, but I promise it'll work out in the end," the hat assured her. Glancing up at it skeptically, Mandy heard it shout; "Slytherin!"

Disbelieving whispers rang through the crowd; a non-Pureblood in Slytherin? Unheard of! How could the hat have sorted her as such? Nervously, Mandy sat down at the Slytherin table, receiving unfriendly glares and cold shoulders. However, the whispers changed subject when the next name -famed Harry Potter- was called. All magic being unknown previously to her, Mandy found it hard to pay attention.


	2. Catching a Knack

Mandy O'Malley was currently living in an unimaginable Hell. Being put into Slytherin without Pureblooded heritage was the worst thing that she had ever had to endure in her eleven years of life, worse than being bullied in elementary school because she didn't have a daddy like everyone else, and worse than her grandparents both dying in the same month. So far, she had been picked on, poked, prodded, punched, hexed, and landed in the hospital wing. Twice. And it was only the fifth week of the year.

At least she'd made one friend, if she could call her that -Mandy didn't really know how to define a friend, whether it was someone who was nice to her, liked her, or just put up with her, considering she never had one. She hadn't really hung out with those kids from the train, Ron and Harry, only seeing them in classes that Slytherin had with Gryffindor, which were quite a lot. Her kind-of friend was named Hermione, who was often with Samantha Mercury, so Mandy wasn't sure whether or not to call Samantha her friend too.

Now in the hallway on her way to class, Mandy made her path through the oncoming traffic of older, larger students. One who wore the same colors and shared the same house knocked her books out of her hands, the offending party and followers laughing and smirking, moving on. Tucking her black hair behind her ear nervously, she bent down carefully and picked her things up. While half-leaning over, some other Slytherin kicked her over and stepped on her back, not enough to break or fracture anything, but enough to hurt, again smirking and chortling. A few more students just walked right over her, leaving the poor eleven year old bawled up and shaking, almost terrified.

"Break it up!" shouted an authority-carrying voice. "Move aside!" Mandy looked up and saw students being pushed out of the way before McGonagall, the Transfigurations professor, was next to her, and all approaching students curved around them as if there was an invisible barrier between the crowds, and Mandy and McGonagall. Extending a friendly hand, McGonagall smiled. "Miss O'Malley, I saw you were in quite the pickle. Need assistance?" Mutely, Mandy nodded and accepted the hand, and soon she was on her feet. McGonagall brushed her off, gave her back her books, and Mandy was off.

By the time she got halfway to her class, the hallways were like barren wastelands. It took her a minute to realize what that meant; she was late to class! Hurrying her walk to a dash and that dash to a run, she managed to slide into her classroom before the professor shut the door. Finding a seat close to the front as it seemed no one wanted to really be near this professor, Mandy settled herself less than gracefully, again having to move that annoying strand of dark hair from her line of view. At least it was a class she liked, with an okay professor. Ah, Potions.

"Now that Miss O'Malley has joined us," began Professor Snape, "We can commence with class." In no time at all, the Potions class was making something, reading directly out of their textbooks and pouring in ingredients. Mandy was cautious, making sure to pour at the precise speed the book described, else something chaotic might occur. Left and right, potions exploded. A Gryffindor boy burned his eyebrows off. Mandy noticed that Hermione's seemed perfect, but then something went wrong somewhere, and a cloud of purple smoke rose. Glancing at her own simmering cauldron, the so-called Slytherin wondered how hers was doing so well. It hadn't erupted, exploded, or evaporated; it was just boiling, a few air pockets bubbling up, bursting, and settling back down. The color was exactly as the page described it as, a distinct teal-aqua, and the appearance was picture perfect.

"Well," said Professor Snape behind Mandy's shoulder. The greasy-haired man had skulked over so silently that Mandy hadn't even known he was behind her until he spoke and revealed his presence, startling her a bit. "Your success has definitely made up for your lack of arrival timing. Ten points to Slytherin." Mandy beamed inwardly, but she felt glaring eyes upon her. How could her housemates hate her for winning them points?

After the lesson, Mandy found the room nearly empty; the second they were dismissed, everyone except she and Hermione had bolted out. Shaking their heads, the two girls began to clean up the messes made by the erupting unsuccessful potions. "Go catch up with your friends, Hermione," Mandy said encouragingly. "I'll do this."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked quickly back. "I don't mind helping, really." She smiled a sincere grin at Mandy, at for once, Mandy didn't feel like quite _everyone _hated her, which, being an insecure eleven-year-old girl, was a pretty good thing to feel. When nodded back at in response, Hermione shrugged, "Well, okay. See you later, Amanda!" she cheered as she made her departure.

Tucking that darn hair behind her ear once again, Mandy scrubbed the areas solo. This potion gunk definitely wanted to stay put, but Mandy scrubbed with all of her strength, and usually the gunk would lose the battle. After a few minutes of feeling her professor's eyes on her and fighting the urge to look up and see, Mandy felt like he wasn't staring at her anymore. Then she felt a presence behind her -a large, looming, Potions Master-type presence. Spinning around on her heels, Mandy would have found herself face-to-face with the professor had they been the same height, but instead, it was more face-to-stomach.

"Miss O'Malley," said the professor, "It is not required nor advised that a single student cleans up after the entire class. It was their mess, and therefore not your responsibility." Mandy felt the hot blood rush to her cheeks and redden them, an involuntary blush being born.

"Oh, I know, Professor," came her reply, those red cheeks shimmering in the lack of light. "But, I wanted to. I mean, Potions was my last class, I haven't got any homework that would take more than twenty minutes a piece maximum, and, truthfully, I don't want to go back to my common room or dormitory."

A skeptical look crossed the Potion Master's face, an eyebrow cocking to reestablish the confused look in his eye. Why would a Slytherin not want to be a Slytherin, or be around other Slytherins? Things like that just weren't normal. "And why is that?" he asked monotonously.

It should have occurred to Mandy before now that she was speaking to her head of house. Instead, it took until now to register that fact. Of course he was interested as to why she wasn't enjoying Slytherin; he was the Slytherin leader. "The other students are mean to me," she admitted, feeling like such a baby for having to admit to being bullied, and what choice of words. "Because I'm not, you know, a Pureblood. They kick me and things. That's why I was almost late…" She looked down at her feet, knees turned inward in a sign of awkwardness and insecurity.

Eyebrow sliding back into its normal position, Severus gained a somber expression. His eyes told a sad tale, and for some reason, Mandy felt closer to her professor than she should. Just in that one hurt look, she knew he had been in a similar situation, and, if her gut feeling was right, no one had helped him. Abruptly turning his head aside to break the accidental download of his feelings to Mandy, he spoke to her, but not at her. "Are you surprised at your performance today in this class?" he asked, a sudden subject change. "It was a test, designed for you. I'd been watching your performance, Miss O'Malley. Today's lesson was a third-year level potion. That is why even Granger could not get it perfectly." His head turned back to her with something burning in his eyes, Professor Snape added, "I want you in a more advanced class, Miss O'Malley. I need permission to make the move, so I'll be owling your parents."

"My mum," Mandy corrected quickly. "Not parents. It's just my mum." She didn't particularly feel like explaining the whole "I-don't-have-a-father" situation, but with another accidental eye-connection, Mandy felt like that entire part of her brain was transported to her professor's mind. Blushing and tears in the bottoms of her eyes, Mandy turned away and ran out of the classroom, leaving her bag and books behind and not even caring.


End file.
